


The Direwolf

by ThatDamnKennedyKid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chris Argent Feels, Claudia Stilinski Lives, Dead Victoria Argent, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, F/M, Female Stiles Stilinski, Hunter Stiles Stilinski, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, True Alpha Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:22:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22926352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDamnKennedyKid/pseuds/ThatDamnKennedyKid
Summary: In retaliation for John and Claudia Stilinski saving the Hales from the fire, Gerard and Kate abduct their only child, a six year old girl called Stiles. After Victoria dies, Chris adopts Stiles as his own, trying to save her from his family's influence. Torn between Chris and Gerard, Stiles sides with an unlikely ally against Kate's deranged plans: Derek Hale.Across town, Peter Hale is growing increasingly frustrated that his sister won't believe him, that she refuses to believe there's a Direwolf among the denizens of Beacon Hills, as if that's somehow absurd.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 10
Kudos: 86





	The Direwolf

Chris found out about it all after the fact. 

He found out about Kate scoping out the Hale family too late, after she'd set the fire. He found out about John and Claudia Stilinski - mutual friends of his and Talia Hale's - having rescued the family. And he found out about Gerard kidnapping their only child, Mieczysław, as petty revenge. 

"I'll take care of her." He offered at the meeting. "I'll train her."

"No, Christopher." Gerard had said. "I will train her. So will Kate. But you will be her father on paper. She will summer with you, school with us. You did not want Allison involved, so I have given you that. But this one will be."

So, he'd taken what he could get. Mieczysław was three years older than Allison, but since Victoria's death, the girl had been quiet and reclusive. The girl was also only six, desperate and afraid. 

He did what he could for her when he had her, but Kate always came in person to collect her and he wasn't ready for a fight, not by himself. 

"You're the only one I can be myself around, Dad." She said to him one summer evening while Allison was out at Lydia's. "No hiding, no lies."

"I never want that feeling to change. I will do anything for you." He kissed the top of her head and she cuddled closer, the lean lines of her body too hard and overworked for a child of twelve. 

Years passed this way, but Gerard and Kate seemed to trust her, and Chris noticed her getting harder, more brittle on the edges. She was more fake, deceptive, cutting, but she slid under their radar. Only Chris seemed to recognize the level of cunning his Stiles was capable of, the dangerous and pragmatic way she handled herself. 

That's why it was somewhat of a surprise when, at nineteen, she showed up on his doorstep three weeks after the fall semester started.

* * *

"Oh my god!" Allison squealed from the front door. The giggling that followed was high and warm, not like the bashful chuckle Scott had. He got up from his desk and went to greet the newcomer, surprised to find Stiles standing there with suitcase and a duffel bag, hugging Allison tightly. 

"Hey baby, how are you?" Stiles asked, spinning her slighter sister around. 

"So good! So good!" Allison laughed, pressing a sweet kiss to her cheek. "I'm so happy you're here."

"I'm sorry I had to bail over the summer, but I'm here in Beacon Hills to stay."

"Where did you go?"

"Grandfather and Aunt Kate took me to France with them." Stiles grinned. "But I'm home now."

"So, you're seriously staying? Permanently?" Allison spun around on him. "Is she?"

"Yes, she is." He replied with a smile. Stiles nodded behind Allison. 

"Oh, I'm so excited! There's so much to do!"

"Do you mind if I speak to Dad for a bit before I take you to school?" Stiles asked. "There was a problem with my flight and I just want to make sure it got all resolved. Dad paid for me to come home, so I don't want him charged twice."

"Oh! Yeah, sure! I'll bring your stuff up to your room." Allison visibly had to restrain herself from jumping up and down. "Oh, I'm so excited."

Chris herded her to his study, closing the door and quietly locking it, though he knew Allison wouldn't barge in. "So what's really going on?"

"Kate's back in town." Her face dropped to a default blankness, one Gerard had drilled into her during melee training. "And she's after the Hales again."

"How so?"

"I found text messages and pictures she's been sending to Talia's son, Derek."

"She's trying to seduce him."

"She's been trying to seduce him since he was _fifteen_." Stiles bit out. "He almost fell for it, but he's been leery since the fire, and she's been getting more aggressive, which makes him nervous."

"Dear Lord." He breathed. 

"Yeah, Kate's a pedophile." Stiles huffed. "But that's not all of it. She's got the specs on their house, and I know she plans to burn down the whole preserve if they escape from the house again."

"She's going for arson a second time?"

"Yeah. She wants to lure Derek out, capture him, burn his family alive and alternately rape and torture him."

"Where did you find these plans?"

"In her bedroom." Stiles holds out a USB. "I couldn't bring the physical copies or else she'd know."

He held the USB, almost afraid to know the true extent of what Kate planned. "And Gerard?"

"Wants to do the torturing."

"So, what do you want me to do?"

"I need your help." She admitted, looking down and comfortable enough for her ADHD habits to shine through. "I need you to side with the Hales."

"Side with the wolves?"

"Stable packs like the Hales keep their own under control and also ward off strays." Stiles reasoned, obviously having thought this through. "They are the reason it's calm here. If they die, who knows what's happen then. Feral wolves and other creatures that go bump in the night will crawl from their holes and infest this town. And no hunter can keep all that down. We need to protect them. We shouldn't be killers, we should be protectors."

"We're hunters, Stiles."

"A hunter implies a necessity, where survival is on the line." She met his gaze, staunch. She would do this with or without him, he could tell. She was gambling telling him at all. "This? This is murder. A genocide run. We need the Hales."

He sighed heavily. "Okay. So what do you need from me?"

"To run interference with Kate and Gerard, as well a key to the weapons cellar."

"Alright."

She rounded the desk and hugged him tightly. "Thank you."

"For?"

"Believing in me."

He squeezed her tightly. "You're my daughter. Of course."

* * *

"Bye! I'm taking Malia and Cora to school!" Derek called from the front door. 

"Drive safe!" He called back, distracted, pouring over the old manuscripts. He could absently hear Derek's Camaro pull out onto the road, but he was too absorbed in the text, dictionaries open next to him in Gaelic, Norse and Latin so he could double check for mistranslations. 

The Latin one was from somewhere around 350 BCE, and was speaking on the She-Wolf who nursed Romulus and Remus, a wolf the Germanics to the north called a dire wolf. The Norse legends spoke of it vaguely in relation to Fenrir, but seemed leery of it. The Gaelic texts were written by werewolves for werewolves, and spoke about Cynthia's wolves being her representatives among the established packs. 

He knew well that Cynthia had travelled to them from their interactions with the Romans, who called her Diana, who had subsequently adopted her from her form as Artemis. At least, so the history books reckoned. 

This passage was from a codex predating Caesar in Britain by at least two hundred years, meaning that to the wolves in Scotland, at least, they had Direwolves telling the werewolves there who they worked for. 

The strange prickle along his senses was getting harder to ignore, considering how aware he was of magic in the air, and he knew at once that whatever was coming, had pushed him to investigate Direwolves, had arrived. 

And Peter was nervous.

* * *

Chris had given her her own vehicle to tool around Beacon Hills in, an older model Jeep that had been well taken care of. He'd been debating buying it for Allison, and her arrival had been his excuse to do so. 

She waved Allison off with a promise to collect her after school and hang out with her friends. She sat on the hood of the Jeep, just watching the mechanics of the school in action. She wanted to know all she could about the town, the people in it and the way it all worked together. The best way to know what was wrong was by knowing how it looked when everything was right. 

A black Camaro pulled into the spot beside her, and two girls and a guy got out. Both girls hugged him tightly, thanking him for the ride, before bounding off onto the campus. The guy watched them go fondly, before she seemed to catch his gaze. He offered a smile and a wave, and when she returned it, he ambled over, hands in his pockets. 

"Beacon Hills isn't that big of a town, so it's hard not to notice a new face." He said by way of introduction. "I'm Derek."

She knew that, but she took his offered hand anyway. A spark slipped between them, and she could tell he felt it too. She valiantly pretended she didn't feel the burning between her shoulder blades while he looked down, blinking rapidly. 

"Stiles." She replied. "I'm not weirded out, I promise."

He laughed bashfully - adorable, for a man of his size and stature - meeting her gaze again. "Good, because that would be an awful first impression. Can I ask what brings you to our humble town?"

"I've been abroad with my grandfather for a while, just returning home." She offered. "My younger sister goes to this school. I saw yours do too."

"Only one of them. The other one was my cousin. After my uncle's wife died, he moved in with us." Derek explained. "Malia's like a younger sister, though."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-two. You?"

"Nineteen." She grinned at him. "You got anything to do today?"

"Not unless I get a call from my mom to move furniture around the house again."

"Cool, because my afternoon's free too."

He perked up - poor thing obviously wasn't used to people actually talking to him rather than fawning over his pretty face and admittedly wonderful shoulders. "How long were you out of town?"

"Six or seven years total. I'd come back for some summers, but I spent them catching up with Allison and Dad, so I didn't get to roam much. I'm not familiar with the town at all." And she wasn't - she knew Beacon Hills theoretically, but she had hardly been around it. She was had been young enough for the Stilinskis to recognize her until more recently. 

"Do you mind leaving your Jeep here? I can drive you around, show you what's where." He abruptly thought better of himself. "Unless it would make you uncomfortable getting into a stranger's car."

She laughed. "I'm not worried. If you're up for saving me gas, I'm all for it."

His smile was so charming, his face so warm and open. Kate wanted to break that, and she was even more sure now than she had been when she'd left Los Angeles that she had made the right choice. There wasn't an ounce of insincerity in Derek's body. 

"I know a good place to stop for lunch, too, if you want." He offered her his hand to help her off the hood of her Jeep - such a sweetheart - and she took it. He was beaming like the sun itself as she grinned in return. 

"As long as you're paying. I haven't switched my euros back to dollars yet."

"Not a problem." He laughed. 

| | | 

Stiles hadn't laughed so much since she was a little girl. 

Derek was warm and charming and funny and kind, showing her all there was of Beacon Hills and taking her to a phenomenal little family restaurant. When she got him to blush and look away bashfully, she felt extra proud of herself. 

They pulled back into the high school parking lot an hour or so before class let out and laid on the hood of the Jeep (mostly because it was cooler), chatting so idly and easily it was like they'd known each other forever. They'd already exchanged numbers at the diner, but it was so nice to simply spend time together. 

"Then Scott made an awful dad joke about the underwear and Allison snorted so hard the milkshake came out her nose."

Derek was hunched over, he was laughing so hard, trying to catch his breath. Through the thin material of his button-down, she could see the Hale Triskelion tattooed (blowtorched) between his shoulders. "Oh my god." He wheezed. 

"Yeah. She got it down her shirt, even. She was mortified, but I thought it was a riot." 

"I would be horrified." He managed. 

"Yeah. That's why Scott's dating Kira, I'm pretty sure, but they're still really close."

"Jesus." He sat up, wiping the tears from his eyes. "That's amazing."

Stiles only smirked, waving down Allison. The girls she recognized from earlier - Cora and Malia, she now knew - following not far behind her. 

"Making friends already?" Allison asked. 

Malia offered a judgemental noise directed at Derek while Cora punched her brother in the shoulder. "Big brother trying to actually date?"

Derek shoved her away, hopping down from the Jeep. He met her eyes again, sheepishly. "This was really nice. Text me?"

"You know it." She winked. His sister and cousin smirked knowingly. He flushed but smiled back, climbing into his car and driving away with a parting beep. 

"Oh. My. God." Allison burst out. "You're going to date Derek Hale!"

Stiles met her sister gaze. "Maybe. He's a joy to talk to, and if I get to wrap my legs around that? I'm not going to turn down an invitation like that."

Allison squealed. "You have to tell me!"

| | | 

Late in the night, in the privacy of the weapons vault, she pulled her shirt over her head, hair over one shoulder, and examined herself. The Triskelion was thick, black and incriminating. 

"Shit."

"And that happened when Derek touched you?" Chris asked, leaning against the table with his arms crossed.

"Yeah."

The two of them stood in charged silence. 

"Shit."

"Yeah." 

She was soulmated to Kate's target. Great.

| | | 

It wasn't uncommon for the younger Hales to wrestle with each other in the living room, provided they didn't break anything. 

Out of all of the children in the house, Peter found Derek was the calmest, the most reserved. Cora and Malia were both aggressive and Laura liked to grapple and fight off excess energy. Derek was a preferred target, usually because he didn't put up much of a fight. It was both amusing and troubling to see the girls bullying him, but he generally took it pretty good naturedly. 

But Derek's history with girls was no secret. The first time Derek had taken an interest in someone, it had been an older woman named Kate just after he turned fifteen. Once Talia weaseled out of him exactly how much older the elusive Kate really was, she had swiftly put a stop to it. 

It wouldn't do Derek or Peter any good for Peter to remind her that she lost her virginity to the very much married father of her best friend in high school. 

The second time Derek so much as attempted to speak to another girl in any fashion other than for school was Paige. Derek had recently turned seventeen, and Paige had been a lab partner of his a couple of times. It had been a bittersweet affair, with her moving away shortly after they exchanged virginities. She didn't keep in touch and Derek had been crushed. 

A few girls had hit on him, but Derek had allowed their flirtations to progress to sex exactly once before he came to Peter and admitted how used and gross their limited attraction to him felt. It took Peter an hour to talk him down enough not to have a panic attack. 

Then Derek had graduated, and he'd left the whole scene behind, focusing on his pack and his werewolf abilities. He's even gone to college to pick up practical skills, from mechanics to basic carpentry. He'd ultimately settled in as a volunteer firefighter, and was now debating whether he wanted to train to join them for real (Peter had never seen a stronger pack mentality than Derek's). 

That made Laura taking her shots at him over the dinner table that night particularly mean-spirited. 

Derek's joy was so strong, the whole house reeked of it. His whole disposition was contagious, so happy at having made a meaningful connection to someone new so easily. For all of his intelligence and charm, his charisma and good looks, Derek was a reclusive creature, adverse to taking risks and inclined to make friends second hand.

Cora and Malia were only too happy to regale the table with descriptions of the way he was staring dreamily at Allison's older sister, exaggerating the whole scene of two people sitting on the hood of a Jeep. 

"The whole wedding was planned in his eyes." Cora said, spreading her hands out in front of her. "I could tell he wanted white rose petals to fall as she walked up the aisle to him, and he wanted them to have matching navy accents."

"How long have you been planning on marrying me off?" Derek laughed. 

"Since I decided you wouldn't do it yourself." Cora teased back. 

"Did you get as far as baby names?" Malia cracked up. "Because he wants five kids, alternating genders."

Derek flushed and looked down, but he was enjoying the lighthearted ribbing. They did this no matter the gender of his new friends. Being surrounded by the firefighters had been months worth of material for them. 

Laura snorted. "At least she's his age this time."

Cora and Malia valiantly ignored the older girl, but Peter, sitting next to Derek, could smell his scent sour. He laid a hand on his nephew's thigh. 

"Can't say I blame him." Malia sighed, winking at Derek to try and cheer him up. "All that pale skin and long dark hair? Perfect for hickeys."

"Isn't it though?" Cora chuckled. "She's got some nice long legs too."

"Ladies." Talia warned. They couldn't get too filthy at the table.

"Yeah," Laura piped up again, "don't get too ahead of yourselves. They don't keep tend to keep him around."

Derek's scent fell, giving off injury and pain. 

"Hey." Cora frowned a bit. "Lay off, Laura."

"Derek can't speak for himself, suddenly?"

Derek raised his head, staring at his older sister. "Stop it."

"What? I'm only telling the truth."

Derek stood with a snarl, letting his eyes flash. "Fuck you, Laura." And then he disappeared, the sound of the front door slamming following not too long after. 

"Please tell me I wasn't the only one who thought his eyes were red." Malia breathed. 

Peter had seen it too. He stood. "I need to do some more research. 

| | | 

Derek drove blindly until he reached the school, pulling in and parking before he could think better of it. 

He wished he was burning with anger to run off, but all he had was a stinging hurt. He knew his last few attempts at romance had fallen flat. He knew he wasn't loveable like he wanted to be. If Laura hadn't poked him, he could just accept that. 

With shaky hands, he picked up the phone. 

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise." The one answering chuckled. "So soon?"

"I know this will sound weird, but can I see you? I need to see you."

Her voice fell flat. "What happened?"

"I just- My sister was being an asshole."

"Where are you at?"

"School parking lot."

"Give me ten minutes, max."

| | | 

Being with Stiles was so easy. He didn't even try to mask himself, telling her what Laura said and why it hurt. He even felt better at the end of it, just driving around and ranting. 

Stiles didn't tell him he was wrong. She even seemed sympathetic, offering a loaded, "Yeah, I've had people take advantage of me too."

They wound up parked by the entrance to a hiking trail, next to a little stream bubbling along, full of rain water. They walked along the trail, finding a massive stump in the middle of a clearing to perch on. 

"If it makes you feel any better," Stiles said at length, "I'm pretty sure we're soulmates."

"How do you figure?"

She sat up, pulling her shirt over her head. "I didn't give myself this tattoo in the last eight hours, my dude."

He sat up, face awash in wonderment, fingertips gently tracing the swirls of his pack's crest. "Wow. I didn't think I'd be lucky enough to get a soulmate."

"Me neither." She agreed. "But it looks like we're luckier than we give ourselves credit for."

He undid his own shirt, revealing the Triskelion to her. To his surprise and pleasure, she leaned forward and kissed it. 

"Don't worry, Derek." She said softly. "I won't let you get hurt again."

He didn't know why he believed her, but he did. He turned to face her, her skin like silver under the broad moonlight, and was grateful when she reached up to cup his face. 

They exchanged sweet kisses and gentle, soothing touches, but Stiles never pushed for more, was content to touch and be touched casually, carefully. 

By the time he returned her to her Jeep, it was nearing three in the morning. 

He went home satisfied and calm, her promise tattooed onto his heart.

| | | 

Peter's Gaelic was weaker than his Latin, but stronger than his Doric Greek, so struggling through the text was less a nightmare and more of a chore. 

Still, it was enlightening. 

Peter closed his books at dawn, fairly confident in his hypothesis. 

* * *

Derek drove Malia and Cora to school every day, and every day, Stiles was waiting on the hood of her Jeep. 

It seemed to become a bit of a gathering every morning before school, with Allison's friends Scott, his girlfriend Kira, Lydia and Lydia's boyfriend Jackson hanging around. Malia's best friend Isaac and Cora's buddies Erica, Boyd, Ethan and Aiden now met at the Camaro's usual parking space, and the two groups blended together. 

Derek would hop up onto the Jeep next to Stiles while the teenagers all gossiped with each other, and the two patron older siblings would see their younger ones off for the day. 

Sometimes Stiles had work she had to do with her Dad, and sometimes Derek had shifts at the firehouse, but often the two of them had nothing but time. Sometimes that free time meant cruising around town, talking about nothing or singing along loudly and badly to the radio. Sometimes they would do childish things, like go to the park and swing or climb trees or play tag. Sometimes they would go out for lunch, and just people watch together, making snippy comments about asshole customers. 

Sometimes, they would go into the preserve, find that old stump, and kiss each other senseless. They would grind and moan and tug on each other's hair, barely able to breathe when their mouths were together or apart. 

Derek had never wanted anybody like he wanted Stiles, had never seriously considered when it would be too fast to say "I love you" . 

She'd been in Beacon Hills for four weeks, and he could smell her on his skin, could smell himself on hers. 

He couldn't explain why he was nervous to see her tonight. He's asked her to dinner when she came to see him at the firehouse ("Oooh, washing the machine with your shirt off. Nice, Hale, I like it!") and gotten a round of applause from his coworkers. She'd agreed to readily, beaming at him. 

But now, standing in front of the mirror in his room, he was sweating and nervous. 

"Are you doubting my abilities?" Peter asked from where he was sitting on the bed. 

"No, of course not." He took a steadying breath. "I'm doubting mine."

Even he knew he looked good, dressed in a deep plum henley with his thumbs through the holes and a pair of warm, dark stone-wash jeans with slate-coloured boots and a tailored leather jacket. He'd trimmed himself neatly, with fashionable scruff and moussed back hair, still fluffy and soft, but not hanging in his face, either. 

"Your ability to . . . stay dressed? Ideally, that is the outcome we're aiming for - the clothes should come off if you've done it right."

"I'm gonna screw it up."

"She likes you." Peter stood, coming to his side. "She's not a wolf, but I can tell you've scented her. She lets you do what you want, seeks you out. Enjoy yourself, and try to get lucky."

"I know Mom wouldn't approve-"

"Then you should definitely do it."

"-but I want to tell her about what I am."

Peter's face was pensive, but not upset. "Ultimately, I'm not in bed with you, Derek. The decisions you make there, concerning her and how much you trust her, are your own. I only caution that you remind yourself, before you blurt it out to her, that that admission affects more than just you."

He nodded solemnly. "I didn't admit it to Kate, Paige or Braeden."

"You also didn't feel about them the way you do about Stiles." Peter cautioned. "Look, I'm not telling you _not to_ , just make sure she's the right one, and that you do it at the right time."

He studied his uncle, frowning. "You think something's up with her."

Peter met his gaze, then glanced to the side. "I looked her up."

"You _what_?"

Peter's gaze snapped up. "The fire didn't come from nowhere. It's too coincidental, that she appears when rumours about hunters have surfaced." Peter softened, looking away again. "I also wanted to make sure you're safe. You've got the softest heart of us all, and that needs to be protected."

He felt bad for second-guessing his uncle. "What did you find?"

"Records for adoption of a girl named Stiles in the last nineteen years only yielded one result. Six years old, from Beacon Hills to Beacon Hills. She was listed as orphaned by abandonment, but there was no former last name, nor record of her in any shelter, care home or even a social worker signing off on her papers. She just _appeared_ . . . as Stiles Argent."

"You're sure? That she's an Argent?"

Peter nodded solemnly. "Christopher Argent's signature is on her adoption form, and his only child is one daughter by the name of Allison. So she already fits the bill Cora and Malia described over dinner."

"Are you telling me this so I don't tell her?"

"No, I'm telling you so you have all the facts. But I also wasn't done."

He inclined his head to let the older man continue.

Peter took a steady breath. "I also think she's not human."

"How so?"

"Have you looked at yourself in the mirror recently?"

"Uh, just now? Getting dressed?"

"With your shift?"

"No. Why?"

"Maybe you should."

"Stop being cryptic, Uncle."

"You told me that she has the Triskelion, and I believe you. Because there are thin, white scars all over your back and one nasty one in the back of your right thigh. You also said you felt a spark pass between you, which isn't how soulmates feel." Peter finally met his gaze. "That's not how Corinne felt."

He sat down on the bed next to his uncle. Years later and the death of his wife still rattled the older man. He's sure if he ever found Stiles' body in the wreckage of his burned-down house, charred nearly unrecognizable, he would handle it significantly worse than Peter had. 

Peter shook himself back from the past. "My point was, it's not a normal feeling. The trading of bodily alterations - scars and tattoos - is what normally marks it. That's why I have a butterfly tramp stamp. But the power exchange? That's new. And the alpha eyes it gave you are proof that something else it at large here."

"Alpha eyes?" He snapped his head over to the mirror, letting his wolf rise to the surface and jolting at the red eyes and long fangs that greeted him. 

"I think, wherever Stiles came from, there's something more to her that even the Argents - possibly even she - doesn't know. And I think it started with you."

"What's your theory?" He let the wolf fall back, meeting Peter's bright blue eyes. 

"I think she's a Direwolf."

"A Direwolf?"

"I've . . . _attempted_ to discuss this with Talia, and she's dismissed me out of hand." Peter rolled his eyes. "As though Direwolves are any stranger than werewolves are, but she's entitled to her opinion."

"Aren't they just amped-up werewolves?"

"That's what I thought too, but my research yielded different results. On the magical hierarchy, they sit somewhere between full-shift alphas and demigods."

"Demigods?"

"It's old magic, from the Mediterranean. Artemis, Diana, Cynthia, whatever you want to call her - the goddess of the moon and the hunt, known to run with wolves."

He frowned. "You think Stiles is a demigod sent from Artemis to make me a True Alpha and, what, run off the hunters?"

"I can't say I know what her intentions are, but to the other things . . . yes. She's a Greek wolf demigoddess."

He shook his head. "You picked a really shitty time to drop this on me."

"I'm aware, but I also made you look decent and stop fussing over that one loose thread in that unholy graveyard of holes you called denim."

"They're comfortable, and holes in jeans are fashionable."

Peter levelled him with a glare. "Not in this household."

"Can I at least take some time before I agree or disagree with you?"

"You're already doing better than Talia, so go for it." Peter shrugged. "I can't make up your mind."

"You actually believe this, don't you?"

"I do."

He sighed, leaning down to rub cheeks with his uncle. Peter stroked the back of his neck, breathing out softly. 

"Get going. You're going to be late."

"Right." He pulled back, smiling at his uncle. "Thanks again."

"Of course. Have a good night."

* * *

Stiles looked good when he picked her up from the school parking lot. She was in tight-fitting jeans and a tank top that hugged her curves. The leather jacket she had on was well-loved and a warm brown. 

"Hey, hot stuff." She said as she slid into the passenger seat. 

"Hey yourself." He grinned, leaning over to accept a kiss. "No plaid?"

"Allison insisted on dressing me."

He laughed. "My uncle did the same to me. Said he would die if I walked out of the house in jeans with holes."

She snorted. "He'd just keel over, I'm sure."

He cocked his head. "Knowing Peter, he might just actually do it, if only to make a point."

She laughed again, taking his hand. "We're a little early for the reservation, and I actually have something I'd like to talk to you about."

"Uh, sure. Did you want to take a drive?"

"We'll stay here, just in case this is a dealbreaker."

He turned the Camaro off, hesitantly turning to face her. 

Stiles' normally expressive and open face fell flat and hard, the veil of a dark past falling over her. "My last name is Argent, and I'm from a family of hunters. I was trained by the family patron, Gerard, and his daughter Kate, though his son is my dad."

He nodded slowly. 

"Kate is the same Kate that was soliciting you when you were fifteen, and the same heartless bitch who lit your house on fire."

He reared back, eyes and fangs rising to the surface. She raised her hands, palms toward him. 

"Let me finish, at least, before you eviscerate me."

Rage - _alpha rage_ , he realized - was sitting like lava in the back of his throat. "Make your next words count."

Her eyes - blank and dark, hollow and empty like she was aware she was facing down death and decided it wasn't the worst thing that could happen (wasn't _that_ a disturbing thought, nearly enough to make him sympathetic) - continued to stare him down, fearless. "Gerard and Kate were merciless training me, but Chris - my dad - has been the guiding light keeping me sane after months in their narrow little box. But the whole reason I'm even in Beacon Hills is because Kate's been laying the groundwork for round two. She wants you and yours dead, and I don't."

"You're going to go against your family for strangers?" His claws itched. "I find that unlikely."

"And yet, here I am. Sniff me, do I smell like wolfsbane or gunpowder? I came unarmed, in good faith to bare my throat, as it were, and try to help you." She leaned forward, pressing his claws against her neck. "You can kill me now and neither I nor Chris will hold it against you. Make it look like an animal attack, so he can explain it to Allison."

"He's okay with you dying? Some father."

"He's not okay with it. He didn't want me to do this." Her gaze briefly came to life. "But you being my soulmate was a complication none of us could foresee."

"So what was all this? A joke, a lure?"

Her mask fell and she was Stiles again, bare and open. "No, absolutely not. I've never been happier or more content than I've been at your side. I didn't get that Triskelion tattoo."

He knew that. Because he had her scars. 

"I wouldn't open myself up to attack like that, to be vulnerable with another person. It's a surefire way to get yourself killed prematurely, especially around Kate or Gerard." She continued. 

"What would you have done if we weren't soulmates?"

"Stalked around your house like I already to to disturb the mountain ash lines that Kate keeps laying down." She shrugged. "Possibly get killed in the process. But you would find my corpse on top of Kate's, because I would not let that bitch escape."

"Why should I believe you?"

"You're the wolf here. Take a listen to my heart." She smirked. "See if I'm lying."


End file.
